


Alone Time

by sepsner



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: High boom, M/M, Masturbation, PWP, Power Bottom McCree, Voyeurism, i feel like that's a tag i'm going to use more often, straight up fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 14:30:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11693634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sepsner/pseuds/sepsner
Summary: When McCree finally gets a moment of peace during a mission, Jamison Fawkes has to go and ruin - or, improve - it.





	Alone Time

**Author's Note:**

> I thought this up at 2am as I was trying to fall asleep so it's technically not my fault if it's trashy

The coast was clear. McCree’s team were focused on the payload, which was barrelling away by now, and the enemy group were focused on them. This was the first time McCree could have some time to himself, perhaps in weeks. He had to take advantage. Especially since the thought of finally having some alone time was making his pants tighten already.

McCree dashed into the upper floor of an empty building and stole a chair into the corner, hiding himself by the stairs so anyone who might come up wouldn’t see him, and would immediately get a taste of his lead. And, finally... even as Jesse stroked himself through his pants, he shuddered. It had been a long time since he last touched himself; at least for him. But he’d have to make this quick, or else his team would start wondering where he went.

Despite that, McCree was savouring every touch. Who knew when the next time he’d be able to jerk off would be? He rubbed himself through the thick fabric of his pants until he was rock hard and moaning. There was no turning back now, he really, really had to masturbate. Jesse couldn’t unzip himself fast enough, and as soon as he got his dick out of his boxers, he was stroking it feverishly. He was a mess, sweating and panting, and almost didn’t notice someone coming up the stairs.

McCree froze, pointing his pistol at the intruder. A skinny blond man put his hands up, slowly. “Well, howdy, cowboy. Don’t shoot yer load too soon, eh?” Junkrat smirked. He slowly moved away from the stairs, and McCree wasn’t sure why he hadn’t shot him yet. Maybe because he was so close to orgasm that he was shaking, and couldn’t get a proper aim. God, why did this prick have to turn up now?

Junkrat, still moving slowly, his hands in the air, perched himself on the table across from Jesse’s chair. “Don’t mind me. Keep going.”

Jesse caught his breath. Any normal person would have put their genitalia away by now, or at least taken their hand off of their dick. But... Jesse started stroking again, slowly and cautiously, glaring at Jamison, not moving his gun. Something about someone else being there and watching him made it more intense. It wasn’t long until Jesse was stroking at full force again, the sensation doubled with the extra party in the room. McCree was moaning again, getting closer and closer, all while staring down Jamison, who sat there with a smirk, McCree looking at his lips and his chest and his arms, his imagination going wild, what would Junkrat do to him after this? Just the thought of the humiliation Jamison could inflict upon McCree was enough—

With a final elongated moan, McCree came, spilling himself on his own poncho. Shit. He finally lowered the pistol and doubled over, trying to catch his breath. That was... intense, to say the least. The silence, filled only with McCree’s heavy breathing and the distant yells of their teammates, was broken by Jamison.

“Ain’t you a filthy fucker?” Here it came, as Jesse expected, the insults, the blackmailing, the humiliation. He shuddered, but found himself excited, his dick throbbing in his hand so soon after orgasm. McCree could hear Junkrat’s metal leg hitting the wooden floor as he got closer. “Comin’ in here, on a job no less, just so you could whack off. I bet you were waitin’ for someone ta come’n find you.”

Jamison suddenly grabbed McCree’s face with his cold hand, and roughly pulled Jesse up to look at him. “Bet’cher waitin’ for someone ta come’n fuck you raw.”

Jesse was instantly erect again. “So,” he grumbled, “you gonna do somethin’?”

Jamison definitely did something. He pulled McCree up by his jaw and pushed him against the table. Jamison slammed his prosthetic in between Jesse’s shoulder blades and pinned McCree’s torso to the table, then grabbed McCree’s hips and pulled his ass into Junkrat’s crotch. Jesse could feel something stiff against him, and he pushed back against it, milking a groan from the Australian. Jamison pulled the hat from Jesse’s head and put it on as he started grinding against McCree.

“’m gonna ride you, cowboy,” Junkrat sneered. His fingers of his free hand threaded themselves in McCree’s hair, pulled it tightly, and pressed McCree’s face against the table.

Jesse grunted. The tip of his dick kept rubbing against the wooden table, and it was starting to hurt. But something told him Junkrat wouldn’t care. “Yer all talk an’ no action,” McCree growled. Jamison was right – Jesse was hoping someone would come up here and see him. But he wasn’t expecting this, and now it was here, he was impatient.

McCree’s breath hitched as Junkrat’s hand was removed from his hair. He tried to bend and look at what he was doing, but the hand pinning him to the table left him unable to. Jesse heard zipping and fumbling, then felt his own pants being pulled down to his upper thighs.

“Someone’s eager,” McCree smirked. His glee was cut short as Jamison’s hand smacked against his bare ass, and he yelped.

“I ain’t heard you make that noise before, mate,” Junkrat laughed, and smacked McCree’s ass again, making him yelp a second time. “Don’t hold back yer noises. Dirty bastard.”

The cold, wet intrusion into Jesse made him cry out again in surprise. Junkrat had slid his fingers into McCree, and Jesse started eagerly riding them. “Damn, you ain’t a beginner at this, huh?”

“I’ve been around,” McCree panted. Damn, he couldn’t wait around much longer. Jamison was going to fuck him, now. “Quit teasin’, darlin’. Show me what you’ve got.”

Junkrat removed his fingers from Jesse, and he took a breath in, waiting. Nothing happened. Jamison removed his hand from Jesse’s back. Jesse spun around, annoyed. “The fuck’re you doin’ back--”

Jamison grabbed Jesse by his scarf and dragged him over to the nearby window. He pinned the brunet against the glass with his hips, grinding their cocks together. “Y’hear anythin’, cowboy?”

McCree tried to stop breathing so heavily for a moment. He expected to hear yelling in the distance, and far-away gunshot, but it took him by surprise to hear just the same, but closer. A hell of a lot closer. He looked over his shoulder, and right outside of the building was the payload. His team had fallen back, and it was slowly making its way back to the last point. And alongside the vehicle was his own teammates, focusing on taking out the enemy group.

“They’re right there,” Junkrat whispered harshly in his ear, and forced Jesse to turn around, his chest pressing against the window. He looked down at his teammates, and felt Jamison finally slide his dick inside of him. “If they look up, they’ll see yer.” Jamison started moving his hips slowly, and brought his prosthetic around and grabbed Jesse’s dick. Jesse almost yelped again from how cold it felt. “Imagine,” Jamison hissed, “if they saw this bad boy. They just have’ta look up.”

McCree’s grip on the boards around the window made his knuckles white. Jamison started thrusting faster, and started stroking Jesse’s dick in time with the strokes. McCree breathed heavily against the window pane, clouding it up. Please, no one look. _Please_ , McCree internally pleaded, I _want_ them to look. The thought of Hanzo, almost on the same level as Junkrat and McCree, looking over and seeing Jesse getting ploughed, or Mercy, looking for somewhere to hover, and getting an eyeful of McCree’s shame—it was making things so much worse, but so much better.

“Darlin,” Jesse moaned. His legs were getting weaker, and he could feel himself getting close. But all he could manage was mumbling short pet names at Junkrat, who had suddenly sunk his teeth into McCree’s neck, humping desperately.

“Come for me,” Jamison slurred, “show’em how you come for me.”

As if Junkrat said a magic word, Jesse spilled himself against the window pane, unable to hold back a moan. Surely, he thought, if there was a break in the gunshots, the people down below would have heard him. Jesse heard Junkrat grunt, thrusting slow and deep, but wasn’t concerned about Jamison’s orgasm at all. Jesse rested his forehead against the window pane, catching his breath. That was more intense than McCree had anticipated.

The two of them zipped themselves back up. Shit. Jesse realised he was going to have to wait until he got back to his quarters before he would be able to clean himself up. That meant... a few hours of being uncomfortable. He shot Junkrat an annoyed glare, then realised the blond still had his hat.

“Gimmie that,” he grumbled, stealing it back and putting it on. Jamison’s cocky smile made Jesse soften up somewhat, despite himself. “Next time...” Junkrat’s eyes seemed to sparkle at the idea of a next time, “yer gonna be the one on the table.”

“Lookin’ forward to it, mate,” Jamison replied, biting his lip.

McCree cursed himself. That was going to be the only thing he’d think about for the next few days.


End file.
